These Dreams
by talking cockerel
Summary: Some things touch our lives more than others. Things like songs, and love, and the autumn after a hundred years of love. For those with different lifespans, these are all that's left. K/Z or Z/K


**A/N : I live. For the short moments of time where I can, between my exams. Dedicated to all those who have felt the way I did. - Cockerel**

* * *

A hundred years to the day they had come together in mutual reconciliation (though for a long time, Zero had put it down to mutual resignation and resentment) of their differences and their abiding love in spite of it, Kaname and Zero were lying in the same bed they had lain in that night a hundred years ago when they were learning, with gruff snarls and frustrated growls, to express their love to each others' opposite natures.

Kaname rolled over to Zero's side and knelt beside his aged body, wondering, for a moment, at the paradoxical frailty and indomitability of the human race. A century down and Kaname was no more past the peak of his prime than any adolescent, and…

A hundred years ago he would have pounced on his partner and receive a playful rolling punch in greeting. Now Kaname gathered Zero's slumbering in his arms, and, hefting the awaking man carefully, brought him to the balcony overlooking a splendid mountain view. It was autumn, and flaming bundles of red and yellow scored the craggy slopes of Kaname's estate. Hard on the tails of spring's winds came autumn's playful sprites, tearing off leaves by the thousands and flinging them up in messy bundles, till they came fluttering down in ribbons of sprightly colour.

"Wake up, silver," Kaname whispered into Zero's ear. "It's our…it's morning." He held Zero upright against himself, warming Zero's back with his front.

"Mm," Zero muttered, eyes fluttering open. He peered sleepily at the spectacular scenery in front of him and smiled a little dazedly. "Where is this beautiful place?" he asked, after a moment of thought.

"It's where you live," said Kaname soothingly, well used to this role by now. "It's autumn now, and that's why it looks so different…"

"Oh yes, autumn, yes," Zero said with a nod, admiring the view once again. Kaname smiled when a few leaves blew into Zero's face, a vibrant splash of colour that floated away to the ground. Zero's arm rested securely across Kaname's shoulders, the other reached out to feel the wind. Then, Zero turned to look at his lover. Kaname looked back at him with a reassuring smile, meeting Zero's warm one, until, slowly, Zero's smile faded and a tinge of hostility came into the purple eyes.

"…Kaname."

There was a long pause, during which Kaname felt his heart jump into his mouth.

"Zero," he said, as softly and intensely as one word could ever be.

"I…how long?" Zero asked, no longer smiling, no longer happy.

"It doesn't matter," said Kaname. "Only now does."

Zero's fingers tightened possessively in Kaname's hair, gripping the thick locks like a lifeline, twisting them around his wrist, inhaling deeply.

"Our anniversary," Kaname suggested hesitantly, wary after so many failed attempts. For a moment he thought Zero was lost again, but then the reply came, quiet and achingly sorrowful.

"Yes, yes, you and I, Kaname Kuran, Kaname Kuran Kaname Kuran, pureblood vampire, and I, Zero Kiriyu, … has it been … can it be? A hundred years? I…" the arm around Kaname's neck gripped tighter, the other arm clutched Kaname in a death grip.

"Don't let me go," Zero hissed fiercely, almost angrily.

"I never have, I never will," Kaname murmured. He tilted his head down and kissed Zero's neck, chastely, gently, lingering over the dark scars that had been made in their nights together. Zero used to smell of gunpowder and soap. Now it was just soap, because gun powder was disinherited out of their time.

"Make it go away. Make it stop."

"…Would that I could, beloved Zero…"

"Why can't you?" Zero demanded. He shook back his hair like a bristling animal, the hair that was now brittle and wispy. "I don't ever want to go back to…to that."

"I don't want you to, either," said Kaname, caught, for all his wealth and power, helpless and powerless against time. "I would do anything – anything, to – "

But the light was gone, suddenly, and Kaname swallowed the words in his mouth.

"Who are you? Put me down, please. I'm tired now, I want to rest." Zero turned from the window, turned from him, no longer interested.

Kaname obliged with the care of a mother cradling her only infant, placing Zero back on the bed, watching as he fidgeted with the pillows and blankets until he was content.

"Shall I go?" Kaname asked, when Zero's head nodded slightly, as if dozing off.

"…can you sing me a song? A nice one…"

Of course he could. The words came easily to Kaname, who moved closer to Zero's reclining form, smoothing the blankets.

"_Sweet little words made for silence, not hurt, a young heart for love, not heartache;_

_Dark hair for catching the wind, not to shield the sight of a cold world._

_Kiss while your lips are still red, while he's still silent rest_

_While bosom is still untouched, unveiled _

_Hold your lover's hand, while his hand's still without a tool_

_Drown into eyes while they're still blind_

_Love while the night still hides a withering dawn…"_

"… … … … K…Kaname!"

"Yes, Zero?" Kaname asked patiently, stopping off the melody. Purple eyes gazed poignantly into his gold flecked ones, weighed down, once again, with recollection.

"This is…our…anniversary?"

"Yes, dearest. I love you, Zero. Very much." He should tell him while he could. Kaname was sitting at the edge of the bed, careful not to place his weight on Zero's feet.

"I… remember. This song..."

"Sing it with me?" Kaname asked, sliding into the covers beside Zero, taking his lightened body in his arms once again. Zero's chest rose and fell slowly against his, but the silver smiled and picked up where his dark haired lover had left off, and they sang their favourite line together.

"_First day of love never comes back, but a passionate hour is never a wasted one…"_

END

**

* * *

****Song : While Your Lips Are Still Red, by the gods that are Nightwish. Go listen to it if you can, the melody is beautiful. I hope you enjoyed this, again, not very typical of me…It was inspired by my recent stint at a hospice, where many of the elderly suffer from memory loss / dementia / senility / Alzheimer's or Parkinson's disease…it's heartbreaking for their family members, and I guess I just needed some form of expression for them. Thoughts, anyone?**


End file.
